Kissing Lessons
by Blood Dark Sun
Summary: England is lonely. Romano is lonely, though he'd never admit it. Denmark has a plan. All your lovers will be Italian, right? Rated T for language. Part of the Skirmish Brothers universe, but can be read as a standalone.
1. Denmark Has a Plan

**Denmark Has a Plan.**

"So what's up?" Romano looked at both Denmark and – and England? For some reason the island nation was blushing and wouldn't meet his eye. He was dressed casually, in a black tee and skinny black jeans, and a red hoodie. Not a look that Romano had ever noted him sporting, before, but, whatever.

Denmark scratched his head. "Well, England, he, uh…You know that song about 'All your lovers will be Italian'?" Romano nodded. "England is feeling, shall we say, romantically challenged? He wants to learn from you."

"Learn what?" When neither of the blond nations answered him, Romano jabbed England in the ribs with his elbow. "Learn what, bastard?"

England mumbled something.

"What? Speak up."

"I think he said 'kissing,'" Denmark offered. England nodded, still unable to look at Romano.

"You want me to teach you how to _kiss_."

England nodded again, ears a flaming red, still not speaking.

"So what the hell are you doing here?" Romano asked Denmark.

"Hey, you know me," Denmark grinned, "Happy to facilitate learning!"

Romano counted to ten, grinding his teeth. "So you're going to sit around and watch this?"

England finally spoke. "If – I – I - if you don't want to do this, Romano, that's fine too. I completely understand." He looked off to the side.

Romano considered this. He'd always heard England was a bit of a cold fish – must be all that fog and rain and shit – but if he was willing to learn, what the hell. It might benefit someone, in the long run, right? And Romano was the best. Hmm…he had a reputation to uphold.

"All right, idiots. We can make this work," he said. England's head whipped around in surprise; he met Romano's eyes without meaning to, and both of them started blushing. Denmark smiled.

…

They'd all gone to Denmark's house, judging it the least likely place to be interrupted, what with Veneziano and the potato bastard barging into Romano's house at the drop of a hat, and the risk of France or America showing up at England's.

"Wait a minute," Romano asked Denmark. "What about Prussia? Why isn't he here?"

England, who'd taken off his jacket, began twisting the sleeves furiously. "If that bloody albino is coming here, I'm leaving," he stated flatly. "I don't need to learn _that_ badly."

"No, no," Denmark reassured him. "He's off doing something with Austria today."

"Doing something _to_ Austria, more likely," England muttered. Romano smirked and nodded in agreement.

"As long as he stays there," Romano said.

"That's a good point," Denmark conceded. "He knows I was looking for him earlier. If Austria kicks him out, he might head over this way."

"Dammit." England and Romano spoke at the same time, and then looked at each other, blushing.

"We-ell…how about this? I'll go over to Austria's too, and if Prussia shows any signs of coming over here, I'll distract him."

"You'd do that?" England asked. "Willingly?" He snorted.

"Sure, I don't mind. I'm not that much of a voyeur anyway," the Dane laughed. "Is that all right with you, Romano?"

"Yeah, that'll work. It'll probably be easier for us if you're not standing around _taking notes_." He rubbed his hand over his face in irritation.

"Right then. How long will you need? Four hours?"

"Four hours?" Romano huffed, insulted. He turned to England. "Do you really think it will take _four fucking hours_ for you to learn to kiss right?" Damn, obviously this bastard had no clue at all. Four hours! It'd probably take Romano half that just to get him to loosen up.

England didn't answer, just looked away.

"Fine, bastard," to Denmark. "Four hours. Don't come back before then!"

"Okay," Denmark agreed. "See you. Call me if you're done before then." He walked out, locking the door behind him.

"Knock before you come in!" Romano called out, then turned back to the room. England was sitting on one of the deep leather couches, head in hands.

"Hey, bastard," nudging England with his elbow.

A grunt was the only response. Romano sat down on the couch next to England and thought about this.

There were a few minutes of silence. "Well?" England finally asked.

"Give me a few minutes," Romano countered. "I've never had to try to, to _teach_ this before. Not like a lesson…so…I'm not sure that I can, you know, _tell_ you what to do," he stated slowly. "I don't know if anybody can actually do that successfully. I, uh, I can show you, though. I mean, if – if you let me, I can teach you by kissing you." He looked hesitantly over at the island nation, who was blushing again; Romano knew he was too. "Is – is that all right?" He held his breath, hoping he hadn't offended the blond.

England nodded nervously.

"All right, well, we need to relax a little, right?" Romano kicked his shoes off; England did the same. "I didn't realize you and Denmark were such good friends." Some conversation might help them loosen up a bit, he thought.

"We go drinking a lot. That man can drink."

Romano considered this. "I've never been drinking with him before. He's fun, huh? That doesn't surprise me."

"Sometimes Prussia joins us. I always drink too much when that happens."

This admission made Romano chuckle, and England looked up at him, offering a smile in return. Huh, the tea bastard wasn't so bad-looking when he smiled. "That's good," he said. "Nice smile." England blushed again and pressed his lips together. "Now, can I ask you some stuff? About why we're here?"

"Of course. Ask what you like."

"You need to be truthful with me, though. I won't be able to do this right if you're holding back."

"I said I'd answer, didn't I?" A small frown appeared between the impressive eyebrows, distracting Romano temporarily.

He shook his head to focus. "Right. Okay, right. Why do you want to have, have kissing lessons?" Dammit, it felt so stupid saying that out loud; he blew out a breath and looked away.

"Isn't it obvious? There's someone I like. I want to be a good kisser. It would be very awkward if I managed to get a date and then ruined it by being a bad kisser."

Well, that made sense. "So do you just want to learn to kiss? Or do you want to learn the whole seduction thing?"

England recoiled. "You – you don't have to teach me about, about _sex,_ you git. I know what to do!"

"No, no, no, dammit," Romano sighed again. "I wasn't talking about that. I meant, like, the, the, uh, the art of seduction." England looked blank, so Romano leaned forward and cupped his cheek with a hand gently, dropping the tone of his voice. "Getting close to someone, through touching and talking." The blond was now frozen in place, eyes like a deer in headlights, but he didn't draw back. "Softening them up, so that they are more receptive when you do finally kiss?" He softened his gaze and moved subtly closer to England, though he could still feel a blush on his face. Dammit. This might be more difficult than he'd originally thought.

"I – I –" England broke the connection between their eyes, and looked away again. He took a deep breath. "Yes. I need, I want, to learn that sort of thing, too. Whatever you can teach me." Sighing, he looked back at Romano's face. "Go ahead…I'll try to loosen up enough to be – er – a good pupil."

Romano's mouth quirked into a tiny, appreciative smile. "That's good. Here, let's start by just sitting and relaxing together." He took England's right hand with his left and put his right around the blond's shoulders, a little shyly.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. _I'm good at what I do,_ Romano thought. _Damn good._ But it had been so long since he'd had any kind of closeness with anyone. Not that he felt unequal to the task, of course not. But – it would be sort of nice to cuddle, to kiss, someone, even if it was just for one day. Even if it was just to soften the guy up for his future date.

He began stroking England's shoulder gently, absently, thinking this over; the island nation leaned in and rested his head on Romano's shoulder. _Why the hell not_? he thought. _Maybe just for today, I can pretend he's here for _me_, and enjoy the intimacy._


	2. First Hour:  England

**First Hour: England**

England relaxed against Romano. Bloody hell, how had he gotten himself into this? (How else…drinking.) He'd gone drinking with Denmark and Prussia a few days ago. While Prussia and Veneziano had been up on the stage crooning the "In Hell/In Heaven" song to each other, England had drunkenly confessed to Denmark about his new crush. Not the person's name, of course…just that he _had_ a crush, and had no idea how to progress with it.

Denmark had seemed merely sympathetic, idly listening to the singers, until the final line, when Veneziano'd squealed, "All your lovers will be Italian! Wahoo!" and hugged Prussia. A determined look had come into Denmark's eye (though missed by the drunk, oblivious England) and he'd suggested lessons from Romano.

_England stiffened. Does he know, did I say it was Romano? He replayed the conversation in his head, and was fairly certain he hadn't mentioned Romano's name. "Why him?" he'd asked warily._

_Denmark jerked a thumb at the stage. "You know he'd be an expert, right? Why _not_ Romano? I bet he kisses like a demon."_

_England got a bit distracted while thinking of kissing a Romano-demon…but pulled himself back to the conversation in time to hear Denmark say, "I'll go with you. How's Saturday?"_

"_Huh? Saturday? For what?"_

"_Romance lessons with Romano!" Denmark was beaming so brightly that England merely acquiesced and then laid his head on the table, returning to the pleasurable drunken fantasies of Romano as a demon…demons were hot, excitable, unpredictable…hmm..._

And so here it was, Saturday, and he'd felt like a git right up to the point where Romano had agreed. He'd _agreed!_ England couldn't figure out _why_ Romano would have agreed. But the next hurdle was, how could either of them relax with Denmark studying them?

Luckily that was overcome, too.

Now he sat, sort of half-snuggled against Romano, but still somewhat hesitant. He wanted to be a most exceptional student, so that the brunet would not feel he'd wasted his time – and so that if he ever did get up the courage to ask him for a date, he'd be able to – seduce him? England froze at the completion of that thought and felt Romano's hand stop stroking his shoulder.

"Are you all right, bastard?"

"Yes, I'm fine…May I ask you something?"

"Sure, whatever."

"Why do you always call me a bastard? I'm really quite a nice person. I try to be a gentleman."

Romano's hand began moving on his shoulder again. "Cheh. I call everybody a bastard. Nothing personal. You call everybody a, a git, right? Or a wanker? It's like that."

Oh.

"Could – could you call me something else, today? It's going to be very difficult to act…properly, if you keep calling me 'bastard.'"

Romano appeared to consider this, and then blew out a breath. "I can't think of anything else."

"Well, then, just call me England. It can't be that hard, can it?"

"I can do that…England." His voice was warm and amused.

The island nation leaned his head back on Romano's shoulder, tilted back to smile weakly up at his instructor. "See? That wasn't so difficult."

"You have a point." He brought his other hand up, gently laying the palm against England's flushed cheek. The blond lost his smile almost instantly, but did not pull away. Romano kept his hand in place for several seconds, not moving; England closed his eyes and savored the warmth of that hand. "That's good…just take your cues from me, all right?" His voice was closer than he'd expected, and deeper, more mesmerizing. The island nation nodded slowly, slightly.

With his eyes closed, he found it much easier to relax, and he smiled, nestling his face into Romano's hand. He felt the half-nation's thumb stroking his cheekbone, quietly, softly, and he snuggled a little closer. "Your hands are so warm," he murmured. "They feel so good."

Since his eyes were still shut, he felt rather than saw Romano lean in closer to him. England took a moment to draw a deep breath, trying to capture his scent without seeming too desperate. Ah, yes…he smelled really nice, clean and sweet, a little bit like tomatoes. England let out a little sound of appreciation.

"That's nice, bast—England. You're nice and relaxed, and you feel warm, and responsive." Romano turned his face so that his lips moved through England's messy hair. "And you smell so good, so different."

This comment, so close to his own thoughts, shocked England's eyes open, although he was careful not to pull away from Romano. "I do? What do I smell like?"

"Mm," Romano responded, lips caressing England's hair. "Like salt, and fresh-cut grass, and, and, I don't really know what else," he admitted, "but it's really refreshing. I had no idea."

England blushed and drew back to offer Romano a tentative smile. He tangled his fingers in Romano's free hand. "I – you –" he stammered.

Romano laid a finger on England's lips. "Shh…just relax, all right?" He gently flicked the blond bangs off his forehead. "I'll take good care of you, I promise."

England's heart was hammering so loudly he was surprised Romano couldn't _see_ it. The proximity to the warm Italian was making not only his heart, but his thoughts, and his blood, race. But he knew his usual tactic – jumping on his partner and plastering his lips to theirs – was definitely _not_ the correct approach here. _Take your cues from me_, Romano had said. All right. He could manage that.

"Here. Turn and put your legs across my lap." England was a bit confused, so Romano grabbed his legs and swung them across his lap. Then he encircled England's waist with his arm, pulling him closer to rest the blond head on his shoulder. "Like sitting on my lap, but…not. You can be closer to someone this way. Face-to-face, instead of side-to-side. You see?"

He nodded and put his free hand on Romano's chest. Was – was his heart beating as strongly as England's own? No, of course not; the famous southern lover was accustomed to this sort of thing. He was probably just feeling the echo of his own nervous heart. To try to calm down, he leaned against Romano and tilted his head back. "I, I don't get to cuddle much," he whispered. "Sorry if I'm too awkward."

Romano squeezed his waist lightly. "Don't worry so much. We have a lot of time today. Okay? And – and we can always work on it another day, too, if you think you need to."

Before he could respond, Romano leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek, drawing back quickly. England watched his face, still open and confident, stain a little pink afterwards. Maybe Romano _was_ a little nervous? Maybe he had heard England was no good at this?

"Are we going too fast?" Romano asked him. "Are you comfortable with this?"

England took another deep breath. "It-it's fine." _Cues, cues, _he thought, and then brought his hand up to Romano's cheek just like the other had done. Bravely, he gazed at the Italian, while tickling his fingertips through the hair at his temple, watched him close his eyes and inhale powerfully.

"Yes, that's nice, that's quite good. By…by the time you're cuddling this closely, the message ought to be pretty clear, that you've got romance on your mind, right?" England nodded and pushed his fingers deeper into the dark hair. "So, uh," Romano swallowed; "yeah," breathed, "so any kind of teasing touch is going to help out." He paused for a moment and opened his eyes. "You're doing great." He smiled subtly at England, who felt his heart leap again.

Before he went any further, there was one thing he wanted to be certain of. "Are you seeing anyone?" he blurted out. Romano blinked. "I mean, I wouldn't want anyone to be offended by our, our lesson, right, if they found out?"

"Oh. No, no need to worry. I'm not dating anyone right now."

England smiled. "Good, it will be a lot easier to relax now." Romano answered with a small grin of his own and lifted the blond's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the fingers, his amber eyes not leaving England's.


	3. Second Hour:  Romano

**Second Hour: Romano**

Romano was conflicted, just now. It was getting harder to concentrate on giving England a romance lesson. He wanted to give up the whole lesson thing and just make out on the couch until Denmark came back! No, that wouldn't do. He needed to focus.

But the weight of England's body leaning against him, the shy trust in the blond's brilliant green eyes, and the invigorating smell of him – these things were taking away Romano's focus, draining it away. He blinked a few times to try to clear his head, and felt England slide his hand up the back of his neck. So nice…he was learning quite well…

"When's the last time you were with someone like this?" he asked, sliding his hand under England's t-shirt. Maybe talking would help him be a little more objective. But ah, that cool, smooth skin…too distracting! He quickly withdrew his hand from the shirt.

"Truthfully?" England answered quietly. "I've never been with anyone like this." He paused. "This is much nicer than it's been with anyone else."

"Cheh. Of course it is. Remember, I'm an expert," Romano grinned, putting his hand on the back of England's neck. His long fingers wrapped around and his thumb rested on the island nation's pulse. It was racing…well, of course it was, he told himself. It didn't take much for people to get excited around him.

Suddenly Romano was seized by a desire to kiss that leaping pulse point, and he acted on it, pressing his lips to the rose-and-cream skin. He _did_ manage to withhold his tongue, though it would have been so nice to lick England's neck…dammit_. _But he kissed the beating pulse again, hearing a little murmur of pleasure from England, who put his free arm around Romano and tilted his head back.

"Do you like that?" Romano murmured, drawing back. This was supposed to be a lesson. He ought to find out what pleased England best…right? Yeah.

"Unh. Yeah. I – I mean, yes, Romano, I like it a lot."

Romano sighed in frustration. This wasn't going to be easy unless England got over his self-consciousness. He tried to break down the Englishman's reserve once more. "Look, let me ask you something. If you and I were here on a date right now – instead of a lesson – what would you be doing? I mean, if you wanted to be kissing me." This ought to help, right? Why on earth, then, was _he_ blushing now? Dammit.

"Do you mean, how do I behave on dates?"

Romano nodded. His hand was still wrapped around England's neck, and he stroked the pulse point with his thumb, trying to calm England down…trying to calm himself down. "I – I would probably have – er – pushed you down on the couch and started kissing you right away," the blond answered. He held Romano's gaze boldly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Really? Dammit, that's so – wow." Romano was actually kind of excited by the idea of being dominated by the Brit. He watched him carefully, but saw no sign of a blush. Hmm, clearly he was comfortable with the idea of jumping on someone. "As exciting as that seems, it's probably not the wisest approach to a new date," he pointed out.

"Exciting?"

"Well, ah, yeah, it's really different from what I do," Romano offered. "In Italy it's all about the slow art of seduction. The time leading up to the kissing is as important – maybe more so – than the kissing itself. It's different at your place?" he asked, subtly pulling England in to snuggle closer.

The blond seemed relaxed now (because they were talking, and not seducing?). He slung his arm around Romano's shoulders, almost abstractly tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. "There are probably people who do it your way," he admitted. "But we tend to have more of a direct approach. It's like we don't want to waste time on all that foreplay" (here he looked away and turned bright red) "when we can just get right down to the kissing." He paused. "But I can certainly see the value of the Italian method," he went on, grinning. "It's definitely more stimulating."

"Ah, that's better!" Romano cupped England's face, bringing it to face him. "It's good to see you looking happy, instead of so nervous." To his surprise, the blond didn't shy away, or blush, this time, just sat in the circle of Romano's arm, smiling at him. "I can kind of see the value of the English method," he added thoughtfully.

"Really? That's surprising. I had the impression that you Italians never acknowledged anyone as superior in matters of the heart."

"Well, there's always something new to learn, right?" Before England could respond, Romano leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. England was too startled to react, but didn't recoil or push Romano away. _Good. _"Are you going to kiss me back, bastard, or just sit there?" Romano was surprised to hear his voice crack when he said that.

"You promised not to call me 'bastard,'" England whispered. "But I think I can forgive you." He tilted his head back, eyes closed, and offered his lips to Romano, who leaned in and kissed him again, softly, sweetly, the kiss of a tender lover to his shy sweetheart.

But England still didn't _respond._ He embraced Romano, he allowed Romano to kiss him, but he didn't kiss back. This was worrying…was there something wrong with his kissing? No, no…it couldn't possibly be that. Maybe he was thinking about the person he wanted to date, and wasn't comfortable really letting go with someone else?

"Hey." He nudged England, who opened his eyes. "You know what I think might work? Just – just pretend that I'm really the one you want to be with. Close your eyes, lean forward, and kiss me. Kiss _me_ – Italy Romano – and do it the way you would kiss me, if you wanted to, to seduce me. Let me see what we're working with, here." Yeah, that sounded good. Was he blushing? Romano couldn't even tell anymore. England wasn't, though, so maybe this would work.

"I – I don't know if I can," England admitted.

"What? You can't –"

"No – wait. Please don't get upset. What I mean is," he pushed his hand through his messy blond hair, "now that you've shown me some different methods, I don't think I can – don't think I _want to _- just jump on you and start kissing. I like the things you've shown me. They're really sexy." Romano grinned and crossed his arms in triumph. "I just need some time to think about how to proceed on my own." He swung his legs off Romano's lap and got up, beginning to pace. "Do you think Denmark has any tea in the house? I'd calm down a lot if I had some tea."

Ah, why the hell not, Romano thought. He could use a break, too. This had been getting really tense. "Let's go look in the kitchen. I'm sure we can find something."


	4. Third Hour:  England

**Third Hour: England**

In the kitchen, England put the electric kettle on and Romano looked through the cabinets for tea. He finally found some teabags in a drawer.

"These all right?" he asked, handing them over.

"Yes, they'll do." England found two mugs and set them on the table. "Do you want some?" He held his breath. Most Western nations didn't care for tea like he did.

"Sure, I'll try it," Romano said after a beat. "We don't drink tea in Italy much, but I'm willing to give it a try."

When the tea was made and they sat at the table, England watched nervously as Romano sipped his tea.

"Not bad, I guess," the Italian said. "But I probably wouldn't want to drink it all the time."

England relaxed. "Nobody likes to drink it as much as I do," he admitted, "but at least you tried it. Thanks." He gave Romano a weak smile and turned his attention to his own mug.

They sat in silence a while, each with his tea, his thoughts.

_So now what,_ England wondered. _He really is so very sexy…_ He thought about what had attracted him to Romano in the first place. He'd seen the half-nation smile brilliantly at his brother Veneziano. And that unexpected smile was enough to flip England's heart over. He'd never seen Romano smile like that before…_ever__…_and he really wanted to see it again. He wanted to make Romano smile like that for him.

He sipped his tea, considering. Romano actually _had_ seemed happy a few times – or at least, not as irritated as his usual public self – out there on the couch. England's smile grew around the edge of his mug. Maybe he was pleasing his instructor? Ah, probably not. As everyone constantly told him, he really was such an old stick…who would ever believe that he, cold and lonesome England, could ever warm up that feisty Italian heart? He set the mug back on the table and looked at Romano…

…who was watching him carefully. What was he thinking? That today was a waste of his time? Bloody hell, England hoped not. At the very least he wouldn't want Romano thinking poorly of him. He really needed to loosen up, or the brunet would leave him here before the four hours were up, and then he'd feel like a git when Denmark came back.

Well, a gentleman was always a gracious host. Even though this wasn't his home, he could still behave civilly. "Would you like a snack? I'm sure we could find something in Denmark's refrigerator or his pantry."

"Tell you what," Romano said easily, rising to put his empty tea mug in the sink, "you look in the pantry and I'll look in the fridge." England nodded. They each pulled out a few things and set them on the counter. "Here, hold this." Romano handed England the milk carton. England's hand slipped on the wet carton and it splattered on the floor, shooting milk everywhere.

"Dammit!" both of them yelled. England was still holding a packet of raisins in his hand. He crushed the raisins in his fist, in his anger, and flung the packet onto the counter. Unfortunately, the packet bounced up and hit Romano, who was still holding a tomato he'd found in the refrigerator.

"Chigi!" the Italian yelled, and reflexively threw the tomato at England. It hit him square in the chest and burst.

"That's it, you wanker! No mercy!" England grabbed a bag of carrots, ripped it open, and aimed them at Romano like darts. Romano yelled, laughing, and began rummaging through the table items for some ammo. He lobbed a big soft peach at England and ducked behind the kitchen island. The peach hit England right in the chest again. "Bloody hell! You're not going to get away with this!" He opened a jar of cinnamon and poured it over the edge of the island to land on Romano's head. "Stand up and take it like a man!"

Romano's response was to quickly stand up, toss another peach, and yell, "Take _this_, pirate boy!" Unfortunately he missed. England's maniacal laughter escalated further. He scooped up the bruised peach and threw it back at Romano; it exploded on top of his head. "Dammit!"

England followed his attack with an entire box of chocolate chips, raining them down on the other like hail. "Don't mess with the Counter Armada!"

Romano launched an egg at him. Luckily, it missed again, but bollocks, England was near angry now. He reached for a squirt bottle of chocolate syrup and sneaked around the island, coming close to stand over Romano and squirt the syrup down onto him like a water gun, laughing like a fallen angel. Bloody hell, he loved fighting.

"Ah, stop, stop!" Romano yelled. "My hair! I'm going to kill you!" He stood up, grabbed a bag of sugar, and ripped it open right in front of England. Unfortunately, the bag burst in both directions, covering them in a cloud of fine white dust.

Romano dropped the sugar bag, looking around in confusion, but before he could say anything, England stepped up, slipped an arm around his waist, and kissed him soundly on the mouth. Oh…yes...cinnamon and sugar...he moaned briefly, before realizing what he was actually doing. "Er – s-sorry," he stammered, stepping back. "It's just – well – fighting gets me kind of excited."

"Don't apologize, pirate bastard," Romano replied, panting slightly, and grabbed him by the neck of his shirt for another strong kiss. England let the empty syrup bottle fall on the floor and wrapped his arms around him again.

Standing in the destroyed kitchen, coated in sugar, cinnamon, syrup, and milk, the two of them kissed each other like it was their last day on earth, hungrily, fiercely, fingers pulling each other closer, bodies pressing together, sugar on their lips. England felt Romano's tongue against his mouth, and he eagerly opened his own, moaning as he crushed Romano closer to him, running his hands through the syrup-soaked hair. He felt a hand on the back of his neck, strong and firm, and pressed closer, now sliding his hands under the brunet's shirt, feeling the hot skin underneath…oh, this was _good_…

"Dammit," Romano finally said to him, after a few stunned moments. "You don't need any lessons." He kissed him again, this time more gently and seductively. "Maybe you could even teach me something." He ran his fingers under England's shirt again.

England shivered with pleasure and grinned. "Well, if I'd known it was _that_ easy…"

Romano tried to nip his nose, and then they kissed again, this time sweetly. "But we ought to clean this up before Denmark gets back." Both of them suddenly had an image of Denmark – and his axe – coming upon this mess in his house.

Quickly and efficiently they worked to clean up, occasionally pausing to exchange a little smile or a kiss, and in a short time the kitchen was clean, although about half the contents of the fridge and pantry were now in the trash can. The two stared at each other, just now realizing they were a complete mess.

"We should take showers," England said, beginning to blush halfway through the sentence.

Romano walked over and kissed him again, softly. "Do you want to shower together?"

"Er, I – I don't quite think I'm ready for that." Bloody hell, he sounded uptight_._ "Maybe next time?"

"Sure. I'll be down in ten minutes."

"I'll stay in the kitchen so I don't make a mess anywhere else."

England paced the kitchen after Romano had left the room. That food fight had been surprisingly arousing. He really did love fighting; it had always turned him on, when it wasn't too deadly. He hoped Romano wasn't simply thinking of this as a release of tension, though.

He leaned back against the sink and thought about this. Yes. He'd definitely tell Romano that he, England, wanted to date him. Well…maybe he wouldn't come right out and say that. Maybe he'd just ask for another lesson.

_No, that's stupid. I'll just ask him out. What's the worst that can happen?_ Well, he could say no…but England didn't really think he'd say no. He washed his hands. While he turned this all over in his mind (again, and again), Romano came downstairs from the shower, dressed and toweling his hair dry.

"Your turn," he grinned. England looked shyly at him, but left the room to clean himself up.

…

_Only one egg was harmed in the writing of this scene._


	5. Fourth Hour:  Together

**Fourth Hour: Together**

Romano lay back on the wide couch; his messed-up shirt was in a plastic bag near the front door, jacket on the back of the couch. He hoped he hadn't frightened the skittish Brit with his suggestion of a shared shower, but _dammit_, he'd been so hot! The way he'd just grabbed Romano and kissed him after their food fight, with no preamble…he'd known exactly what he wanted, and had taken it…he really _was _a pirate…

He was lost in a little romantic reverie when England came down the steps, carrying his own sticky shirt. The island nation smiled, at first softly, then more eagerly when he saw Romano's answering grin. He threw the balled-up shirt on the floor and crossed to the couch.

"Here, lie down," Romano said, scooting over a bit. England complied, snuggling up. Before he could say anything, Romano grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him close for a kiss.

"Ah – ah – no," England responded, teasingly, drawing back.

Romano panicked inside, but tried not to show it. "What – did I –" He stopped talking as he felt England's fingertips on his lips, then moving to skate down his arm, so slowly, so teasingly; England's sweet smile reassured him.

"I want to show you that I learned something today." He drew his face closer, continuing to stroke the Italian's arm. England's voice dropped to a more seductive register. "I want to please my teacher." He touched his forehead to Romano's. "Am I pleasing you? Did I learn well?" he asked, with a hint of smugness in his voice. His lips brushed Romano's as he spoke; he pressed forward into a strong kiss.

Romano responded in kind, slowly wrapping his arms around England, tasting his lips, sliding his palms up and down his bare back. The blond's soft moans encouraged him, and Romano stroked his tongue along his lips. England parted his mouth willingly and they tangled their tongues together, tasting each other, melting into each other, for several moments, before the island nation pulled away again.

"So? _Did_ I learn well?" he asked softly.

"Huh," Romano huffed. "I think you know the answer to that already, bas-England."

England grinned. "You can keep calling me 'bastard' if you like. It sounds kind of sexy the way you say it, when you're panting in my arms."

Romano was panting – just a little bit, of course, but so was England – and he reached his hand up to stroke his partner's cheek. "Hey – will you tell me something?"

"Sure, what?"

"Who – who's the lucky person you want to go out with?" He looked away, pretending it didn't matter, but he knew it did.

England stared at him, and then started laughing. "It's you, of course!" He punched Romano weakly on the shoulder.

Now it was Romano's turn to boggle. "You – you're not kidding, are you?"

England shook his head. "How could I be like this with you, if there were someone else?" He snuggled up against Romano, hearts beating together. "No. Not kidding at all."

"But how did Denmark – did you tell this to Denmark?"

"You know, I'm not even sure how that happened. I could have sworn I didn't mention your name. I told him I had a crush on someone" – here he kissed Romano's nose – "and the next thing I knew, we were talking to you about kissing lessons. Is it any wonder I was so nervous?"

Romano's gaze softened as he looked at his new friend. His new boyfriend? "You were so adorable, blushing the whole time," he offered, wondering. "Who knew you had such fire in you?"

"Adorable?" England started blushing again, and Romano pulled him in for another passionate kiss.

When they broke apart, England rested his forehead against Romano's again. "Er – so – will you go out with me?"

After the events of their day, this struck Romano as an anticlimax, and he began to laugh, holding the blond, who saw the funny side of it too and relaxed against him. "Hell, yes," Romano answered. "I want to find out what other mysteries are hiding behind those beautiful green eyes, dammit." He kissed each of England's eyelids, and then his lips again.

"You _are_ a demon," England breathed, when they broke apart.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing…just a little bet I'd made with myself."

"Did you win?"

"How could I lose?" They smiled at each other.

England propped himself up on one elbow and trailed his fingertips over Romano's bare chest, watched as the amber eyes darkened with desire. As he leaned in towards his lips again, the doorbell rang.

"Shit!" They sprang apart guiltily; England leaped off the couch to grab his hoodie and throw it on; Romano scrambled for his own jacket. By the time Denmark entered the room – with Prussia in tow – the new boyfriends were sitting sedately on the couch, fully-clothed, several inches apart from each other, each twisting his fingers in his lap. Romano was staring at his fingers; England was staring at the wall.

"Hey, you guys!" Denmark bounced in, pulling Prussia along. "How did it go?"

"Er...fine?" England offered, not looking at them.

"How did what go?" Prussia asked. "Hey, Romano, hey Iggy."

"Albino potato," Romano acknowledged. He stood up; his eyes went straight to England's shirt, which was still wadded up on the floor, but neither Denmark nor Prussia seemed to notice it.

"How did what go?" Prussia repeated.

"Nothing," England barked at him. "I, I've got to go."

"Ah, don't! We had some nice stuff to eat at Austria's place, and Prussia and I decided to come home and bake a cake. Come on in the kitchen and help!"

Romano and England looked at each other in a panic.

"Sorry, no, gotta go!" Both of them ran out the door, England scooping up his shirt on the way out. "See you later!"

Prussia stared after them in confusion. "What the hell?"

"Ah, never mind," Denmark smiled. "I think they had a good day."

...

_Their story is continued in "Love in the Modern World."_


End file.
